


Fallen Heroes: Unknown

by LiterallyCantChooseJustOneFandom



Series: Dark Avengers: the Multiverse [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Fantastic Four (2015), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Canon Character of Color, Character Death, Character Study, Out of Character, POV Character of Color, Post-Canon, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-06 02:38:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16379840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiterallyCantChooseJustOneFandom/pseuds/LiterallyCantChooseJustOneFandom
Summary: EARTH-MCU-subF4-98325Why burn when you can drown?--He took yet another swig of his drink, waiting for it to take effect, waiting to fall asleep and wake with a pounding headache. He never, in his brief twenty-something years, had ever wanted so badly as now to die. Or not die – to have died with them.





	Fallen Heroes: Unknown

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JustAnotherWhumper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherWhumper/gifts).



The others died. They had gone on their adventure, they had beat the bad guy, and what did he have to show for it?  
His team – his family – had died in the fight. And they fought like hell, too. They always had, for everything they wanted, for everything they believed in. And they left him here, alive.

  
He was always getting left behind. Daddy problems and subsequently acting out had caused more than a fair share of regrets. It had caused familial drifts and fights and pain, and he couldn’t apologize now, because everyone he wanted to apologize to was dead.

  
Everyone else was alive, but maybe deserved to die.

  
He flew around, knowing there would be no crime for him to stop, not while the criminals could see him. And he was hard to miss.

  
Nevertheless, he flew, nostalgia gripping his thoughts. His family had bought hot dogs from the stand over there, they’d pet a dog with a cone a couple of streets over.

  
But he guessed it didn’t matter. Maybe it never did.

  
They should’ve known that they’d die. Who does what they do and expects to live? The city put a monument up for them, but he never saw it. Never went to visit, or lay flowers, or even sent someone to lay flowers.

  
He flew over everyone’s heads, then landed back at his building – not his building, his family’s building, he’s just here, just barely living here – and he walked off to the kitchen, and opened the refrigerator. Yet again, it was close to barren, excluding one item. He grabbed the bottle, opened it, and took a swig.

  
Vodka always tastes better chilled.

  
This was how his nights usually went nowadays. Try to find a purpose for the night, fail, come home – home? Is it really home? – and drown his sorrows in whatever drink he had. But he’s getting low on his supply. He needs more.

  
He dragged himself to the living room, bottle loose in his grip. He knew that intoxication messed with his powers, but like with so many things he used to care about, he doesn’t any more. He drops himself onto the couch, not actually taking any information from the now-playing television. The numbing feeling filled the air, the screen flashing colors but never meaning anything.

  
He took yet another swig of his drink, waiting for it to take effect, waiting to fall asleep and wake with a pounding headache. He never, in his brief twenty-something years, had ever wanted so badly as now to die. Or not die – to have died with them.  
Suddenly, between his haze of alcohol and the lights of the television, Johnny Storm saw a portal open, and a man who looked straight out of his hero-dreams walked through, a gentile smile on his face.

  
“Hi there, Johnny.” Steve crouched down, leveling his face with Johnny’s. “How are you doing?”

  
Johnny didn’t move, didn’t care if this man was a threat. “I’m not drunk enough.” He went to take another swig, but the strange man took his bottle, causing him to try to grab it back. Instead he fell off the couch and onto his face.

  
“I think you’ve done enough drinking. Now, Johnny, my name is Steve, and I know a place where the Fantastic Four have never existed.”

  
Johnny didn’t quite understand. “So…?”

  
Steve smiled patiently. “So the pain of losing them never existed there. Come on, Johnny. Let’s fix you up.” The soldier picked him up, and headed back to the portal, and as Johnny drifted off, he realized he was looking forward to this new place.


End file.
